


1

by firepixel



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Infidelity, Multi, literally first thing i ever posted anywhere have mercy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firepixel/pseuds/firepixel
Summary: this is crap and the tags will tell u more than the thing itself will





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am genuinely sorry for my utter lack of writing skills

jumin han never asks you about where you go between the perfunctory kiss goodnight and the hushed entrance in the morning, where you creep into his bed just as the first rays of sunlight just as stealthily creep past his curtains. he never asks you where the bruise beneath the keyhole neckline of your pale blue ballgown came from, a bruise that wasn't there when he went to sleep but appeared as if to replace your missing wedding band in the morning. he never asks you why you have to leave early tonight, and you don't tell him.  
the wedding band sits pretty on your ring finger anyway, this evening, and the glint of it distracts from the concealer brushed across your collarbones. you rest perfectly manicured nails on his jacket, all pretty and tame ever since the first time you came to him with your nails bitten to the quick and saw vague disappointment in his eyes. you can't afford to look anything but the best anyway, you think. if your life has to be a flawless shell, you don't really see much point in arguing whether your nails should fit. so instead you let him brush a kiss onto your cheek, as cold and professional as the rest of him, and nod.  
luciel is eternally patient with this thing between you two; he never breathes a word about it, never lets it creep into his eyes when you exhange lazy looks over the rolled-down window of his (disgustingly expensive) car at 3am, so you read his discontent between the extra second his fingertips take to travel down your back and the beat too long his sigh lasts right before he rolls it back up.

  
he's patient, you'll give him that. you guess both of them are.


End file.
